


talents of the souls

by ohmytheon



Series: daemons and alchemy [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials, Daemons, Gen, Human Transmutation, companion fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 16:58:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4487511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmytheon/pseuds/ohmytheon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward's hand shakes as he draws the soul bonding transmutation circle on the inside of the armor. Alethea has to hold his arm up to keep him steady. “I won’t let you take them!” Ed screams. “Take my arm, take my heart, take my soul!” Alethea cries out as she buries her face into his stomach. He can’t feel her. He almost gets sick. Oh, god, why can’t he feel her?</p><p>(Or, Fullmetal Alchemist with daemons, focusing on Edward, Alphonse, and human transmutation. Companion piece to "rummaging in our souls", which focuses on Roy and Riza.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	talents of the souls

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been working on this for months, but only just recently got to it a little more. I’ve rewatched the human transmutation scenes so many times that it hurts. I kept this to Al’s and Ed's POVs, so I plan on writing some from Winry’s POV later to learn more about her daemon and life.
> 
> Notes about Daemons:
> 
> edward elric - wolverine - alethea: means “truth”  
> alphonse elric - unsettled/not shown yet: bobcat - anima: “minuteness” in sanskrit and “soul, spirit” in latin  
> trisha elric - cocker spaniel - ceri: possibly from welsh “to love”  
> izumi curtis - black mamba - jarek: “fierce, strong”  
> winry rockbell - capuchin monkey - basil: means “brave, valiant” in arabic  
> pinako rockbell - leopard - dmitriy: russian chemist, almost derived from demetor, “earth mother”  
> riza hawkeye - northwestern wolf/northern timber wolf - wojciech (pronounced “VOI-chekh”): means “soldier” + “solace, comfort, joy”  
> roy mustang - african lion - shula: means “flame” in arabic

At eight years-old, Edward is determined for Alethea to settle, but she is incredibly resistant towards the idea. No one is quite sure how or why a daemon settles and the timing is all random, but Ed is more than certain that he’s ready for it, even if the average age for a person’s daemon to settle is thirteen.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Alethea huffs as she sits down in front of Ed. She’s in a feline form, long golden hair shining in the sun.

Ed picks up a rock and throws it into the pond. “Dad’s gone. I need to become the man of the house. No more kid stuff.”

“You’re just a kid,” Alethea points out, sounding just as young as Ed’s age defines him. When Ed gives her a sour glower and throws another rock, she reaches up with one paw and swipes at the rock, knocking it right into Ed’s knee.

“Ow!” Ed jumps up and rubs at his knee, which is sporting a little nick. “What was that for?”

Alethea turns her head up. “You’re being dumb.” As Ed leaps to tackle her, she shifts into the form of a raven and flies into the air, so that Ed falls face first into the grass. “Besides, why would I ever want to give up being whatever I want? It’s magical.”

True to both their nature, Ed ends up pouting for the rest of the day and Alethea refuses to apologize for her behavior. They return back without so much as glancing at one another to the house where Al is waking up from a nap and Mom is making dinner. By the time night falls and Ed crawls into bed, Alethea slips under the covers next to him as a rabbit and they both sleep better for it.

*

“Why isn’t my alchemy as good as Brother’s?” Al asks one night while Mom is making dinner.

Mom looks startled and casts a glance towards her cocker spaniel daemon, Ceri, who looks even more perplexed as to what to say. But then she smiles and bends down to her youngest son’s level. “Oh, dear, your alchemy is just as good. It’s just _different_ than your brother’s.”

When Al doesn’t look convinced, Ceri leaps down from the stool she was sitting on and rubs up against Al’s little rabbit daemon Anima. She’s a bit more jittery than Ed’s Alethea, not as confident, but also sweeter and perhaps a bit more helpful around the house. Anima thumps a leg and then shifts into a Labrador retriever puppy.

“Plus,” Mom adds, “there are very few children your age that are even capable of alchemy. Both you and your brother are very smart boys; and I’m so proud of you.”

“Would Abi be proud?” Anima asks in a timid voice. The puppy daemon’s eyes are bright, a mirror image of Al’s. She’s always so surprised at how much Anima and Al look alike, despite the fact that Anima hasn’t settled yet. It’s just like how Ed and Al look very similar as well; and yet they are two sides of a coin in personality.

Mom sighs and places a hand on Al’s head. “Oh, my sweet boy.”

“Of course Abishag would be proud,” Ceri finishes, “and your father as well.”

Al and Anima give each other excited looks. After Al gives her a hug and Anima nudges into Ceri, the two of them bound back into the living room where Ed is most likely reading an alchemy book. Their minds are far away from their concerns moments earlier. Ed has always been the more confident of the two, but Al is young and will grow into his confidence one day.

She glances at Ceri and the cocker spaniel daemon rubs against her leg. She just hopes that she’ll be there to see it.

*

Seeing Mom’s lifeless body on the floor wasn’t enough to cause Alethea to settle; and thinking about that sometimes scares Ed more than he likes to admit. Things like that are supposed to change you, but it didn’t. It changed everything. Mom was gone. Not like Dad. She couldn’t–

Ed closes his eyes and clenches his fists at his side.

 _Don’t think like that,_ Alethea snaps at him.

“We’re going to bring them back, Alethea,” Ed whispers hoarsely, rolling over on his side and opening his eyes so that he can focus on his daemon in the dark. Alethea’s been changing a lot more these days, like she’s unable to concentrate on one form for longer than a few minutes. It’s unsettling to say the least. She shifts from a dog to a fox in a matter of seconds; and he digs his fingers into her fur in hopes that she won’t be able to change while he’s holding her together. “I promise.”

“I know you will,” Alethea says back. “We will.” She wiggles around so that she can look at Al and Anima sleeping in the bed on the other side of the room. Anima is back in her rabbit form with Al holding onto her so tightly, like he’s afraid she’ll go away just like Mom and Dad if he lets go. “They’re scared. There’s no room for fear in alchemy, especially not this.”

“They’ll be fine,” Ed sighs, closing his eyes again and forcing himself to relax. He doesn’t sleep well anymore, his mind too focused on things he can’t yet understand. There’s a lot that needs to be done in these next few years. “We just need more training first. Then – then we’ll bring Mom and Ceri back and everything will be like it was again.”

*

The alchemy books don’t tell the boys what human transmutation does to one’s soul or body. All the books say is that they should never attempt to perform the ultimate alchemic taboo.  There are hints that the mere thought of such alchemy is against human nature itself, but the boys are young and foolish. They don’t yet understand what human nature is – or what evil truly is. To them, the sudden loss of their mother is evil. Becoming orphans at such a young age is against human nature.

Should they not use their skills to bring their mother back?

“I can’t wait for Ceri to come back home,” Al proclaims, a big smile on his face.

Ed nods his head in agreement, but when he catches eyes with Alethea in a badger form, he shuts his mouth and keeps from replying out loud. Truth be told, half the books that he gathers are still a little beyond him, but he pushes himself ahead anyways. He knows that he can get this – he knows that if he studies enough, all the pieces will fall into his hands and he’ll be able to bring Mom back to life.

 _What we need is a teacher,_ Alethea points out not for the first time.

He shoots her a sharp glare, but she merely snorts in derision at him and leafs through a book with her paws. It isn’t that he doesn’t want help with alchemy; it’s that he knows that she’s right. For however much Ed and Al have learned about alchemy on their own, they could be so much better if they had an alchemy master that could teach them even further. He could make leaps then that he could only dream about now.

But what could two orphan boys do? They had nothing to offer any alchemy teacher and they didn’t even know where to start to look for one. Edward huffs as he collapses down on the ground, book in hand, and thinks hard about how they’re going to find someone well-versed in alchemy, much less one that will agree to take on not one but two apprentices. He’s tenacious, if anything, and Al has a sweet-tempered convincing manner about him. He forms his hands into fists. They’ll figure something out. They always do.

*

It’s Jarek’s idea to take the boys on as apprentices, but also his idea to throw them on an island for a month to see how they’ll do. After all, they spent a month up in Briggs, and they came out well enough. (Stealing food and supplies from the military was no easy feat.) Izumi had no plans of taking on an alchemy apprentice, considering that she was a housewife after all, but somehow after a matter of minutes standing in the rain, she found herself with two very energetic and exceptionally eager young boys staying in her house.

Izumi can’t say what it is, but there’s something about the Elric brothers that captures her attention. Ed is serious as can be one second, filled with a frenetic energy that borders on obsession when it comes to learning, but then his unsettled daemon will nip at him and chase him through the backyard until they both collapse. Al is smaller, but filled with more bright smiles than an orphan should be capable of; he’s the one that helps her out in the kitchen after lessons, so determined to be big, alongside his quiet also unsettled daemon.

Her lessons are not meant for children their age, but she doesn’t know how to teach any differently and she refuses to treat them as something less. If they want to learn alchemy, then they damned well better be prepared for whatever comes flying at them. Lesson Number One: if you don’t have what it takes to handle the delicacy and power of alchemy, then you shouldn’t be messing with it at all.

Still, she can’t deny that half the reason her lessons in teaching them how to fight are so physically demanding so that the boys will pass out at the end of the night without fighting. How do children have such an abundance of energy? She can’t remember being so tired as she was that first month after they pulled those determined boys off the island.

There’s also the matter of her not being entirely well. They’ve seen her get sick once, upon first meeting one another, but as far as they’re concerned, it was just a one-time illness. Izumi is grim in her prognosis that she won’t be able to hide it for long – and she’s not embarrassed by her getting bloody sick out of nowhere – but she pictures them looking at her with horror, the reminder that their mother died of an unknown illness, and for some reason, she can’t bear that.

The very idea angers her, burning her to her bones.

But try as she might, she can’t hide it forever. Sig has taken her illness in stride, and she can’t help but love him even more every time he cradles her when she does get sick. Jarek looks at her askance every time, and she can see a strange sense of yearning in his little black eyes whenever she pulls back up and wipes the blood off her lips. She’ll give him a knowing smile.

 _Be lucky that you can’t feel this,_ the smile says.

He flickers a tongue at her every time and turns his head from her, slithering under a pile of clothes to hide like a pouting child. It hurts them both, but it’s easier to keep apart whenever she’s like that.

It’s a warm day when she’s training with the boys, barely paying attention as they leap and attempt to strike her. She’s able to block them easily, all the while reading from an alchemy textbook, like she can slap the knowledge into their heads. Edward is quicker while Alphonse, despite his smaller size, is stronger. They’ve caught on quickly for a pair of kids. A sense of pride brushes against her mind, not hers but Jarek’s, and she latches onto the feeling with a strange sense of desperation.

And then she drops the book, doubles over, and begins to cough up blood.

“Teacher!” Edward shouts, nearly falling on his face while trying to stop his kick in mid-air. He stumbles over his cat-shaped daemon in his panic and then runs over to her side. Alphonse gapes in horror, his little Anima tittering at his side in the form of a raven. Neither of them knows what to do as she falls to her knees, hands pressed flat against the ground in a mock transmutation act, and continues to spew blood.

“Sig…” Izumi manages to cough up, blood dribbling on her chin.

But her husband left to go to the shop. It’s early and she was supposed to join him later, but now… Jarek pops his head up and gives her a sharp look. She can see his agitation in the tight way he holds himself, but more importantly, she can feel his fear throbbing in her mind. She relishes it, despite the severity of the situation. She doesn’t want to ask him to do this – can’t ask him – but like always, he makes up his mind for them both.

“Watch her, you two,” Jarek says, his voice clear and blunt. People always seem so surprised that he doesn’t have a soft voice, nothing close to a hiss like what any snake should sound like, but she’s admired the strength of his voice from day one. If anyone heard him hiss, it would be a fearful thing.

Izumi herself has only heard him hiss once. She can still picture the way his mouth yawned open, fangs bared, at the bloated, heaving, black mass on the basement floor. And when he looked at her, she felt like the last thread of her very being torn away from her. She broke in half. Jarek looked at her and he hissed, so vicious and pained, and then rushed out of the room.

The boys and their changing daemons look at the snake daemon now, eyes wide with the responsibility of having to watch their sick teacher. He gives her a sweeping gaze again – I’ll be back, the words loud and forced – and then slides through the grass and out the gate in the direction of the shop. The boys’ daemons fret with one another, shifting nervously, but say nothing.

The butcher shop is a mile away. It feels like nothing to Izumi.

*

Getting all of the ingredients to perform human transmutation takes a lot of conniving on Edward’s part, plenty of innocent smiles on Alphonse’s, and luck from both of them. Nonetheless, they manage to find everything they need for their alchemic feat without anyone realizing what they are up to. Not that anyone would’ve suspected two kids to know of them alchemy taboo, much less be capable of performing it. Edward doesn’t want to take any chances though, so they go out of their way to get some of the ingredients. He’s a tad bit surprised that they managed to get everything in such a short amount of time.

The time has come though and Ed is positively brimming with energy. Alethea circles the chalk transmutation as a wolf, sniffing the air and then focusing sharp glowing eyes on each careful stroke. He wills her to come over next to him, but she shakes her head and continues to prowl about the dark room.

At his side, Al peers at the transmutation circle nervously. “Brother… Do you think we should be doing this?” Of course his little brother is worried. All the books did say that human transmutation was not to be performed under any circumstances, but they didn’t exactly say why. As far as Edward’s concerned, if the books couldn’t be bothered to explain why human transmutation was so bad, then really they were just trying to dissuade lesser alchemists from trying to attempt extremely powerful alchemy.

 _We’re strong enough._ The thought is propelled fiercely into Ed’s mind through Alethea. They finally connect eyes, her lupine eyes just as golden and hard as his.

“We’ll be fine,” Ed insists.

He knows that he should give his brother a reassuring look – knows that both his brother and the boy’s daemon need it – but it’s not in his nature, so it’s up to Alethea. She turns into a raven, flying over the circle so that she can land beside Anima, who is sitting down in a beagle form. Once at the other daemon’s side, she turns into a cat, brushing up against Anima in a comforting manner. Al’s little daemon makes a little whimper, the kind only dogs are capable of, and the nods her head.

Taking a deep breath, Ed swipes his hands on his sides. “Let’s bring Mom and Ceri back.” He nods to Alethea, who turns back into an adolescent wolf, and she nods back. The two daemons step to the back of the room, leaving Al and Ed at the edge of the transmutation circle. Ed throws a confident grin to his little brother, who smiles back at him.

_We’re coming for you, Mom._

*

At first, Ed can’t tell if he’s screaming or if it’s Alethea. Red light crackles around him and he feels like his insides are being thrown around violently. This isn’t… This isn’t right. This isn’t what he wanted. His eyes are wide with horror and his hands shake, but he can’t pull them away from the transmutation circle.

“Brother!” Al’s shrieks ring in Ed’s ears. He drags his eyes to the side and watches as his little brother is dragged from his spot by black tendrils. Ed has never seen someone so terrified before, pale face and trembling and crying and desperate.

Finally, he’s able to pull a hand off the ground and reaches out to grab his brother’s hand. “Al–”

A blood-curdling scream from behind pierces the air. Ed jerks his head around and almost throws up at the sight of black tendrils and tiny hands wrapping themselves around Anima. A little bobcat daemon, she struggles with the ropes, but they begin to smother her and she yowls. Al is crying hysterically as he too is dragged away, barely able to manage Ed’s or Anima’s names. This isn’t right. This is… This is horrible.

Sitting there torn, Ed screams, “Alphonse!” and throws himself forward to grab Al’s hand, but then feels a burst of pain in his leg, causing him to fall flat on his face. When he looks back, he gasps when he finds half his leg disintegrating before his very eyes.

“Edward!” Alethea is at his side, scratching at his body, clinging to him with unfamiliar paws. She’s vibrating with energy and Edward feels…so cold. He’s cold. A jagged shiver runs up his spine when he connects eyes with his daemon. His lips tremble. Alethea throws her head back and forth, not sure where to look. Ed turns back to Al, just half of his body and one outstretched arm visible, and tries to grab at him again, but Alethea clings to him and holds him back. “Edward, no! Edward!”

“ALPHONSE!”

And then his brother is gone and his daemon dissolves into the black tendrils.

This time, he knows that it’s both he and Alethea screaming.

*

Edward blinks. He’s never seen something so white before. “Where…? I was doing something…” He scratches his head and looks around. “Al?” Something’s missing. Something in his chest. “Alethea?”

She isn’t there. She’s not with him.

But he doesn’t ache either.

His eyes settle on a strange form in front of him. “Who are you? Where’s Alethea?”

Despite the fact that the figure doesn’t seem to have a face, Edward can tell that it grins. “I’m so glad you asked! I have many names – the world, the universe, god, Truth, one, all… I am even you and her.” When the huge door opens behind him, Ed drags his eyes back, but before he can run, the same black tendril hands as before latch onto him. No matter how much he struggles and shouts, the large eye of Truth and the hands pull him inside. “You dared to knock on the door. Now it is time to see what’s behind it.”

 _Alethea!_ he screams out in his mind. _Alethea, where are you?_

But she doesn’t answer and he can’t feel her anywhere. Something is missing inside him. She is taken.

And he is taken too, into a portal of unknown knowledge that knows no depth. He can barely breathe. It’s so much, too much, and he wants to beg for Alethea, for her ferocity and steadfastness, but there’s no room in his mind for her, not with everything else that’s being poured into it. Too much. It’s too much!

Then there is a figure at the end. _Mom? Ceri?_

Ed reaches out again, but then he feels himself being torn apart, like pieces of data being shredded. “What’s happening? Alethea, please!”

Suddenly, like an explosion, Edward understands everything beyond his twelve years of age. That cold feeling settles in his gut again. He knows that light. He sees the truth. He doesn’t feel the ache of lacking something.

When he finds himself back in the plain white room with the door and the strange figure, Edward blinks. He doesn’t feel the emptiness where Alethea once was and instead turns to the door. He wasn’t wrong. Human transmutation could be done. It was all right here. If he could just look at it again, him and Alethea both, they could figure it out. They could do it all!

“Just show it to me again, please!” Ed demands.

“I can’t do that,” the figure says. “I’ve already shown you what I can for the toll you paid.”

“Toll…” Ed blinks. “What toll?” Pain resonates in his chest, like a dull throb, and then once more, nearly causing him to collapse. “What’s…?” Everything rushes back to him. There’s so much pain in his body that he can barely think. It’s like he’s being ripped apart from the inside out, every bit of what makes him a human being torn apart stitch by stitch, like he’s a doll coming undone. “What did you do to her? Where’s Alethea?”

“Surely you knew,” the figure laughs as a flesh leg appears on it. Ed’s own left leg seems to shatter, coming apart and vanishing before his eyes. “It’s the law of equivalent exchange, young alchemist!”

*

There’s so much blood. It’s everywhere, to the point where he feels like he’s swimming in it, but as Ed grasps onto his thigh, his mind flitters between pain and the desperation to see Alphonse again. Alethea is on his chest, her paws digging into his shirt. “Damnit, Al, damnit!” Somehow, he manages to get onto his hands and one knee. “This can’t be happening! This can’t be…”

 _This wasn’t supposed to happen!_ It’s his thought, not Alethea’s, even though he’s looking her right in the eyes. She’s sitting in his blood, the red liquid covering her dark brown fur.

“What have I done? This is my fault!” Ed cries out, collapsing to his side. There is no response. The light of the transmutation begins to die. He curls his hands into fists. “Somebody help me. Please! Mom, please!”

As he turns his eyes to the center of the circle where his mother should be, Alethea pulls on him again. “Don’t, Ed, don’t look!” She jumps in front of him and stands on her back legs, pressing her paws against his face, trying to block his view, but what he catches a glimpse of breaks him down even further. “Edward, please! It’s not your mother.”

The thing…the monster…gasping and grasping…

Ed trembles. Alethea yowls painfully. “No, this isn’t right… This isn’t what we wanted…” He grasps onto Alethea with one hand and falls to the ground, holding her against his chest like he can bring her back to him and become one with her again.. She nuzzles into him, his blood smearing all over his shirt. “Al… Alphonse… Anima… Anima!”

“Edward, we have to–” Alethea pulls out of his grasp and leaps from his chest. The sound of crashing armor catches Ed’s attention and he drags himself cursing and begging over to the metal.

His hand shakes as he draws the soul bonding transmutation circle on the inside of the armor. Alethea has to hold his arm up to keep him steady. “I won’t let you take them!” Ed screams. “Take my arm, take my heart, take my soul!” Alethea cries out as she buries her face into his stomach. He can’t feel her. He almost gets sick. Oh, god, why can’t he feel her?

 _Alphonse!_ His brother’s name sounds so distant. Was it him or was it her?

“Bring them back!” Ed slams his palms together and light begins to crackle around them again. Alethea screams wordlessly. “He’s my little brother! He’s all I have left!”

*

Alethea nearly bites Lieutenant Colonel Mustang when the man grabs Ed by the front of his shirt, but is stopped short when Mustang’s large lion daemon steps in between them. Despite Alethea’s fierce growling, the lion, more than triple her size, merely snorts and turns her head away, dismissive in a manner that only military officers can manage. It takes everything in Alethea not to snap, but she holds herself back. She’s not supposed to be the unreasonable one; that’s Edward.

Still, Alethea can’t seem to help herself whenever these strangers and their daemons are around. The Colonel’s lion daemon has had years to understand her body and strength whereas Alethea feels unsure and faulty. It doesn’t help that whenever she fixes her gaze on Edward, he doesn’t turn to look at her and instead stares unseeingly ahead in a dejected manner. No matter how many times she cries out to him, he doesn’t respond. And when she curls up against him at night, she can only feel his heart beat slowly in his chest and nothing else.

She wants to howl. She wants to scream.

Instead, she watches the two military officers with keen glares, never once leaving Edward’s side, even if she can bleed comfort into him like she could days before.

“I didn’t expect to find a child when we came here in search of a renowned alchemist, but still… Joining the State Alchemist program could offer them ways to find their bodies again,” Mustang points out. “As a part of the military, he could be called on to perform certain duties in case of emergency, but it pays well and would give them access to research that that they could not see otherwise.”

Whenever the lion gazes at them, Alethea can sense how knowing it is. Her human is an alchemist, just as Alethea’s is, and they all know the signs of human transmutation when they see them. The lion daemon knows just how painfully Alethea failed her human, how she let him down. She should’ve known better. She should have told Edward and Al that there was no payment for a soul.

_Alphonse…_

Alethea does not look back at the armor standing behind them. Every time she does, she feels the ache in her chest telling her that something is missing and she wants to cry. She can’t cry though, not now, not ever. No matter how much it tears her to see Alphonse like this, she has to be strong for Ed, especially when in the presence of the military officers.

And if the lion daemon’s eyes bother her, it’s nothing compared to the wolf’s. Alethea had felt a shock when a short-haired female officer followed the wolf daemon inside. First a lion daemon and then a wolf? Who were these people anyways? The wolf reminds her too much of what she liked to play at whenever she was capable of shifting. She liked to be a wolf. It made her feel big and strong, like she could protect everyone.

It was a lie though. She was false. Alethea is strong, but she’s small with little legs, sharp claws, and even sharper teeth. She knows in her bones what she is, but Ed hasn’t asked her. She’s found herself in a body that he doesn’t know, and it wounds her that he can’t know until he tells her. Something is wrong with them, but he has barely opened his mouth to eat, much less speak, since Alphonse carried him bleeding and broken to Pinako’s.

The wolf daemon prowls through the house, farther than most daemons go from their human, but says nothing. He doesn’t need to because his eyes speak volumes. He sees everything in the house. Alethea trembles with barely suppressed rage when the wolf’s eyes fall upon her and Ed, but she bites her tongue and curls up in Ed’s lap, wills him to look at her or say anything, and bides her time. She screams at him in her mind, but nothing seems to get to him.

Can he even hear her?

*

“There aren’t many records of alchemists surviving the rebound from human transmutation,” Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang admits much later that night.

He, Edward, and Winry are supposed to be in bed, but… Alphonse knows that sleep won’t be able to find him. He’s exhausted mentally, but not the least bit physically. In fact, he can’t even feel things physically. It scared him at first (and if he’s honest, it still does), but nothing scares him more than the fact that he’s alone.

“I should’ve known,” Aunt Pinako sighs. “Those boys took things too well… They…”

“Alchemists are a tricky lot,” a strange male’s voice pipes up. It’s a gentle voice, but has an edge to it, like they’ve had to deal with the troubles that alchemists bring all their lives. When Alphonse sneaks a peak through the door, he’s surprised to find that it Second Lieutenant Hawkeye’s wolf daemon that is the one speaking, casting a glance from Hawkeye to Mustang. It’s unusual for daemons to be so talkative to strangers. “There’s nothing that you could have done. This is their battle and theirs alone.”

Pinako sighs and places a hand on her leopard daemon’s head. Dmitriy is silent and leans into her touch. The simple act is enough to cause something to stir inside Alphonse, an ache that he can’t actually feel but knows is there. “What they did…”

“The greatest alchemy taboo,” Mustang confirms. “And because there are no records, I can’t say for certain what has become of them, only what I’ve observed.”

Shame floods Alphonse to his deepest roots. All of the books told them not to perform human transmutation and yet they dared to do it anyways. They not only shamed themselves, but their teacher and alchemy itself. Were they worthy of performing it any longer? Would even the military want them?

“What has happened to them?” Dmitriy asks tiredly. Even he is breaking tradition. The world has changed greatly since a few days ago, it seems.

Though the man is steady, Alphonse can still remember the way Mustang faltered when Alphonse spoke from inside the metal armor in Edward’s stead. Now, his lion daemon leans into his side, her large presence a source of comfort and strength. Alphonse imagines that it has been a long time since anything has thrown Mustang off as much as seeing the outcome of their transmutation. For their part, the wolf daemon looks impassively at Pinako, but Hawkeye’s eyes are on her superior officer.

“It appears as if Edward and his daemon, Alethea, have been…severed,” Mustang explains in a low tone. At this, Alphonse puts his hand to his mouth, though he knows that wouldn’t stop a sound if he made one. Dmitriy makes a strangled noise and pushes his head further into Pinako’s hand, which begins to shake. Neither the lion nor the wolf daemon makes a move. Hawkeye is still. How can neither of them scream? “I can’t exactly confirm without tests, but they show all the signs.”

“Severed?” Pinako gasps. “How can this be?”

“Perhaps it is part of the rebound,” Mustang says.

The lion at his side nods her head, tail swishing side-to-side in aggravation. “I’ve taken note of the distances that his daemon has gone from him. He doesn’t even blink when she leaves the room, like he feels nothing. I caught her watching us when Edward was clear on the other side of the house. That distance is not normal. And when they’re together, she’s very…clingy. She can’t feel him. It’s only normal for him to be so weak.”

“This is a dangerous time,” Mustang adds, his voice grave and frustrated at the same time. This is a man that knows just how dangerous alchemy is when no one else in the room does. He knows the dangers that human transmutation brings. Teacher knew too, but they ignored her in the end. “Most people do not survive being severed from their daemons.”

The thought of Edward never being able to feel Alethea again scares Alphonse almost more than him never being in his body again. He thinks of Anima and shivers. What if he never sees her again? What if she’s gone from him forever? If Edward is severed from Alethea, what does that make him if Anima isn’t even with him any longer? Is he even human?

“And Alphonse?” Pinako demands weakly.

Mustang and his daemon look at each other. Even from the crack in the door, Alphonse can see the uncertainty in the man’s eyes and the wariness in the lion’s body language. When neither of them responds, the wolf daemon huffs and nudges Mustang’s leg with his snout. Alphonse almost leaps at that action. A person’s daemon touching another person is extremely rare. Even Anima never touched Edward and Alethea never Alphonse and they were as close as can be. This must’ve really unsettled the Lieutenant Colonel.

Upon clearing his throat, Mustang continues, “As for that, I’m not sure. I can only speculate.” Alphonse leans closer to the door. He imagines that if he had a heart, it would’ve been racing by now. He doesn’t know what to think himself, but he can’t cry in this body and he can’t do much of anything but think and fear what he doesn’t understand or know. “Edward successfully performed in binding his brother’s soul to that suit of armor – but it isn’t Alphonse’s daemon. There are…stories of people whose daemons – or rather, their souls – are invisible, on the inside. Perhaps, due to the rebound, when Alphonse was taken, he and his daemon were combined, but when Edward brought them back, they were still connected.”

“So it’s Alphonse in the armor, not Anima,” Pinako sighs, body slumping on the couch.

Mustang shakes his head. “Yes and no. Daemons are extensions of our souls, not our minds, and that is most definitely Alphonse’s mind and his soul. I think it’s both of them, but in one body, for lack of a better word…”

Alphonse drags himself away from the door and wanders back to the bedroom where he and Edward are staying. When he steps inside, he pauses to look at Edward and Alethea. On the surface, everything looks the same between them. She’s curled up asleep under his arm in a new form (A wolverine, Alphonse thinks, remembering Hawkeye’s words) and Edward has his fingers in her fur. But then he notices the way Edward twitches in his sleep and no matter how much Alethea instinctually nuzzles into him, it doesn’t help him. Their connection has been lost.

Alethea hasn’t changed in three days.

None of them say it, but Alphonse knows what it means. Edward’s daemon has settled and Alphonse’s is gone.

Sitting on the bed, Alphonse puts his face in his hands and tries not to shake, lest the noise will wake up his big brother. But oh, how much he wants to cry for days on end. He knows that something is missing and it’s not just his body – and yet he can’t feel her either. Anima is with him, somewhere, but he can’t feel her. He can’t feel anything. What does that make him?

Who is he without his soul or does he still have one?

Is he human? Is he alive? Is she?

*

Ed settles on a decision a day after Mustang and Hawkeye leave. He doesn’t watch them go, not like Alethea, who stands to lean her paws against the window sill and eyes the military officiers and their daemons step into a car and drive off. He doesn’t talk to her about his decision either. It’s strange, not being in constant communication with her, not able to bleed into her as he once did, and he can tell that she doesn’t like the way he’s begun to hide things from her. He wants to protect her though. He can still feel that need.

“I want you to fit me with automail limbs,” Ed tells Pinako and Winry. The two women look at each other unsurely. If Alethea is surprised by his sudden words, she doesn’t make a move. Instead, she hops onto his lap and nods her head, like they’ve been talking about this all along. That comforts him. Even if they aren’t in each other’s heads so much anymore, they’re still on the same page. “How long will the rehab take?”

Pinako taps on her pipe. “Three years.”

Ed digs his fingers into Alethea’s dark fur. “I’ll do it in one.”

Winry’s daemon, Basil, clings to a wrench into its tiny monkey hands. “Ed…” They found out years ago that their daemons would speak up for their humans, but only with them. Alethea would talk to Winry for Ed when he couldn’t and Basil would shout at Ed when Winry was too upset.  Anima was always the one to calm everyone down.

Ed’s breath hitches at the thought of Anima and he blinks the thought away. “I have to do this. One year – and then I can apply for the State Alchemist program.” Winry almost whimpers at the thought, trembling before him, but he ignores her and pushes on, “I have to. It’s the only way…the only way to get Alphonse his body back. This is my fault. I need to…”

When Ed begins to take in sharp intakes of breath, the panic setting in, Alethea places a paw on his hand. It doesn’t still him, not like it should, but it centers him and he’s able to pull himself out of the downward spiral that he felt himself falling into without her. “This is our decision,” his daemon says resolutely. “We did this, so we must fix this. That’s the law of equivalent exchange.”

No one says anything for a while. Basil climbs into Winry’s arms, wrench still in hand, and she clings to him. Ed feels a stab of jealousy, but he smothers it almost immediately. It’s not her fault that he can’t feel Alethea in the same way anymore. It’s his own. Alethea casts him a sad look. She knows exactly what he’s thinking, even though they are separated.

“Alethea has settled, hasn’t she?” Ed says quietly.

“Ed…can’t you…?” Winry edges closer to him. Basil doesn’t pull away like he used to. Ed knows that he would have felt the pull towards her if he and Alethea were together. “You know that, right?”

Alethea turns her head away. Ed doesn’t say a word. That’s all the answer everyone in the room needs. Edward knows that he and Alethea have been severed. It’s hard to put into words, but he can feel the lack of her, like a hole in his chest that he’s never understood until that night. It doesn’t hurt. The fact that it doesn’t hurt is a pain in itself though.

_Wolverine._

The thought is a foggy, distant scream – but it’s from Alethea. To hear her voice, despite its weakness, is almost enough to cause Ed to cry, but he doesn’t. Instead, he grips onto her tightly. Everything has changed. They are different – Anima is gone – but they will not give up. He remembers everything that Mustang said, even if it had seemed like he wasn’t paying attention.

“A year,” Ed promises in a growl not unlike Alethea’s, “and we’re getting our bodies back.”

*

“We’ll get your body back,” Ed promises.

“And Anima’s too,” Alethea adds.

Alphonse doesn’t know what to say. A year has gone by. Ed has new automail limbs to move with. Al has grown used to this metal body, used to the idea that Anima is with him, if not in body then in spirit, but he wants to cry at their words. That’s one of the problems with this body. When he’s truly upset, he can’t cry. And he knows now that crying is a healthy way of exercising grief. But he can’t do that. And now…

“Thank you, Brother, Alethea, but we need to focus on your body too!” Alphonse tells them.

Alethea smiles. There are tears in her eyes. She turns away from him, wounded beyond relief. He knows how much she misses curling up against Anima, protecting her like an older sibling. Not having her around, just looking up at his armor… She can touch him. He can touch her. And it does nothing. He can still remember her crying when he first touched her and she ran away, almost a mile, without Ed even blinking.

Ed holds up a fist and Al bumps it with his own fist. “We’ll do it together,” his brother proclaims.

*

Alethea paces in front of the doors, teeth bared and claws out. “Are you sure about this?”

“As sure as I’ll ever be,” Edward responds with his arms folded across his chest.

He knows why Alethea is so nervous, even despite the fact that he can’t hear her muttering in his mind. They’re severed. There are only a few bits of research on severing that they can get their hands on now, but none of it is good. The interviews and practical tests are wearing both of them down. They have so much to keep to themselves, and it’s a lot more difficult when they aren’t connected. She doesn’t want to admit such weakness though and neither does he. Even severed, they are too alike.

The doors begin to open. The first person Edward sees, by chance of course, is Colonel Roy Mustang. He is standing in the crowd with a few other State Alchemists. It’s his daemon that draws Edward’s eyes. He alone has the largest daemon, a lioness, that stands proudly at his side. Edward can see something between them though that perhaps no one else in the room can – a separation, not quite a severing, but close enough. If anyone in this room is going to understand him, it’s that arrogant man and his huge daemon, and that pisses Ed off even more.

“Try not to do anything too rash,” Alethea practically groans as they step into the room. She almost starts when she spots the Fuhrer, smiling at them, like it’s perfectly normal for him to observe these tests, but then she straightens up and walks proudly at Ed’s side.

Ed reaches down with his right hand and she leaps up to touch him. It’s his automail hand. He feels nothing. But no one else besides Mustang knows that.

“You’re allowed anything in order to perform this practical exam,” a man says to the side. “Chalk?”

With Alethea casting a snort, Edward slaps his palms together, like a prayer, and says, “I need nothing.” And then the alchemy sings in his and Alethea’s blood and everything begins.


End file.
